The One Where You Meet Joey
by Gandalf3213
Summary: Joey answers Chandler's ad for a roommate. The two have almost nothing in common and Chandler seems to hate Joey from day one. When Joey is in trouble, will Chandler help him? Set before season 1.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Our take on how Joey met the gang and how he and Chandler became so close. This is about eight months before the start of the first season, so Rachel is not in it at all. I also don't own **_**Friends**_**, or any of the characters. I wish I did. **

"Then get a roommate!" Ross was tired of this conversation and rand his hand through his hair. Chandler had come in earlier that night complaining about how high rent was and he still wouldn't get over it.

Chandler rolled his eyes. "Real clever Ross, you think I haven't thought of that?" he sighed, collapsing on the sofa.

"What's so wrong with a roommate?" Phoebe asked, looking up from her guitar long enough to peer at Chandler interestedly.

"What's wrong with a roommate?" Chandler repeated, looking at her as if she was crazy, which was a debatable topic at the best of times. "I'll tell you what's wrong. I haven't had a roommate since college." He glanced over at Ross. "And I want to keep it that way. I like having the apartment all to myself."

Monica looked like she wanted to scream. "Well obviously something's not working. Just put an ad out for a roommate, you might like it."

"Yeah." Ross chipped in. "I mean, we were roommates and we had a great time."

Chandler shook his head, defeated. "Fine, I'll...I'll get an ad out."

Phoebe, who had gone back to plucking at her guitar, looked up again. "Oh! Make sure he's cute!" she tilted her head as they all stared at her. "What? If he's going to be living across the hall one of us should date him." She shrugged and put her head back down.

Chandler, who was still staring at Phoebe, seemed to physically shake himself. "So I'll put the ad out tomorrow." He sounded as if he'd just signed his own death sentence.

"Hey." Said Ross, coming over behind his friend. "It won't be that bad. He can be, like, part of the gang."

"Four's kind of small anyway." Monica chipped in from the sink.

Chandler got up. "Whatever. See you guys tomorrow." He walked out of the apartment, already knowing that he wouldn't like anybody who showed up.

**Just trying to get the plot down. The next chapter will be up soon.**

**Review?**


	2. Chapter 2

**I own it not.**

Hey." Chandler stepped aside to let Joey Tribione into the apartment, not offering to help with the suitcases piled around his feet.

"Hey," Joey grunted in return, pushing his stuff into the room with his foot, face purple with exertion. He looked behind him, winked at something, and closed the door.

Chandler folded his arms across his chest. He hated him already. Dark hair covered his dark eyes and his skin was tan even though it was mid-Feburary. Definetly not good for him, Chandler, if he ever considered getting a girlfriend for more than a few hours.

Joey leaned against the counter, looking perfectly at ease, though his eyes wandered the apartment. "So, man, who was that girl?"

"Which one?" Chandler asked warily. There were several girls in their building, every one of which had shot Chandler down at one point.

"The one across the hall. Short dark hair, kind of small." Joey's eyebrows rose above his hairline, indicaing that he thought this girl was definetly something.

Something immediately flared in Chandler, a mixture of protectiveness and frustration and anger that came boiling out in a rush. "Her name is Monica, and she's a good friend of mine." He knew his voice was sharp. He didn't care.

Joey nodded like he understood. "You dating her?"

"No!" The shout came out before he could stop himself. This wasn't how this conversation was supposed to be going.

"Oh," now Joey looked confused, his eyebrows coming together as if this was a problem he was supposed to solve for a test. "So, can I dhave her?"

"No!" Chandler rubbed his temples, trying to bring some sense back into this conversation. "Look, why don't we start over. I'm Chandler Bing." He held out his hand, resisting the urge to squeeze when Joey put his hand in his.

"Joey Tribione. I'm an actor." He smiled, looking proud of himself in an aw-shucks kind of way. "Well," he amended after a second, smile fading slightly so that it became lopsided, "I'm _going_ to be an actor."

Chandler nodded like he understood. He knew of a lot of actors who came to New York looking for work. Not many made it. Feeling like he had to a least appear to be inviting he offered, "Want some help with yout stuff?"

Joey shook his head, scooting the bags nearer to one of the rooms. "Nah, I have it."

"That's actually my room." Chandler warned. Joey laughed a little and redirected, aiming for the open door this time.

Chandler sighed and collapsed into a chair. God, he had _nothing_ in common with this guy. Remembering the other people who'd applied (one of them had wanted to bring their mother, a ghost, to the apartment), Chandler knew he probably should be lucky he didn't have an ax-murderer.

_He could still be an ax-murderer._ Chandler thought to himself, staring after Joey. He examined the remaining bags for any ax-shaped objects but couldn't find any through the fabric.

Of course, knowing his luck, Joey _would_ be an ax-murderer.

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	3. Chapter 3

**I don't own Friends. Sorry.**

When Chandler when down to Central Perk the next day, Joey followed him.

Chandler walked in the door a half-minute before he did, having jogged the last block to be there first. He quickly crossed over to the couches where Phoebe, Monica, and Ross were currently sitting and said in a low, hushed voice. "Get him away from me!" He barely got the words out before Joey walked in.

Monica gave a high-pitched, little-girlish squeal that she couldn't quite pass off as an obnoxious sneeze. She gave Phoebe a knowing look and they turned away from each other, both grinning and looking at Joey out of the corner of their eyes.

Chandler knew he was missing something here. He stared at the girls for a few seconds before mentally shaking himself and turning to Ross, about to make some comment about girls or weird sneezes or...groundhogs, for goodness sake.

He found Ross talking to Joey. Stepping closer, he heard the tail end of a sentence, "―trying to make it as an actor."

Ross looked genuinely interested. Chandler, having been friends with him since college, knew this wasn't easy. "So you've never been in New York City before?"

Joey gave a lopsided smile, his eyes straying to Chandler. They settled on him, still full of the smile, wide and unprotected. Chandler seethed. "Well, I've been on some field trips, but never more than a day or two. My mom took me to a Broadway show for my ninth birthday. I think I slept through it."

Ross laughed, his eyes also landing on chapter. Chandler looked away, trying to pretend he didn't understand that his eyes meant '_Good find, man'._

Chandler collapsed between Monica and Phoebe, stealing Monica's coffee from her hands and, ignoring her protests, draining it in a gulp. "I hate him." He stated out loud, quietly enough so that only Phoebe and Monica heard him.

"Why?" The girls looked confused. Monica continued. "He seems great ― normal even. And he's new to the city. You can show him the ropes."

"I don't _want_ to show anyone the ropes." Chandler vented, his voice carrying enough so that Ross looked at him, eyebrows raised, and Monica and Phoebe both made shushing noises.

"Well, there are some good things about him." Phoebe said, looking over the brim of her teacup at Joey. She put down the cup, smiling at Chandler. "At least he's cute."

Chandler let out a half groan, half scream. He wasn't gay, damnit.

Phoebe seemed to realize his thoughts and said, hurriedly. "Not for you! For me." She smiled in Joey's direction. He looked surprised for a second, then ducked Ross and came to stand in front of Phoebe. He crossed his arms, upping his suave smile a couple of notches. "How you doin'?"

As soon as he said it, Phoebe blushed, Monica spit her coffee back into her cup, and both Chandler and Ross let out whoops of laughter. Joey looked alarmed and hurt. "What?" he asked, looking from one person to another.

Chandler clutched his side, attempting to speak. This guy was clueless, he really was. Before he could get words out, Gunther came to get their empty tea mugs. He looked between Joey and Phoebe, taking in the rest of them with one glance, then he placed the cups on a tray and gave Joey a small thumbs-up. "Good one." He mouthed, before going back behind the counter.

At once, Chandler's resentment was back in such a powerful wave that he was actually staggered by it. What was it about this guy that made him so angry? He looked around; everyone else seemed to be enjoying his company. Ross was trying to persuade him to come to his museum and the girls were semi-giggling together, trying not to blush whenever Joey looked at them.

He was clearly likeable, and so far he hadn't killed Chandler in his sleep. He even seemed to fit in well with the group.

So why did Chandler hate him?

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	4. Chapter 4

**I don't own Friends. I really, really with I did.**

"What are you doing?" Chandler demanded, staring at the counter that had been clean when he'd left the room fifteen minutes ago.

Joey looked up, startled. "Oh. I was going to make some sauce. I kind of had a craving for pasta. You like spaghetti?"

Chandler walked over the counter, eyes wide. There were three pots simmering on the too-small stove. Bits of vegetables were strewn everywhere --- even across the microwave and floor. Chandler sincerely hoped that Monica wouldn't be dropping by tonight. "Spaghetti doesn't require this many things. Just a box of pasta!"

"It's okay, I'll clean up." Joey turned back to the tomato he was cutting, looking sideways at Chandler every few seconds. "Actually, I was hoping we could, you know, talk. I'd like to get to know you."

Chandler's eyebrow shot up. That definitely sounded like a line. He crossed his arms over his chest, not able to find a legitimate reason to get out of this. Maybe he'd find out why he hated this seemingly-ordinary guy.

Joey tossed him an onion and pointed to a knife. "Want to help?" Not waiting for an answer, he continued. "Anyway, I'll start." Chandler looked up from the onion in time to catch a very sly-looking smile. "So, how's the girls?"

"What girls?" Chandler asked, bewildered.

"You know. New York City girls. I mean, I've seen a couple and I've met Phoebe and Monica but how _are _they?" Joey's eyebrows wiggled suggestively.

Chandler cut the onion with rather more force than he'd meant to, nearly losing half of it. "What do you mean?"

Joey looked at him for a moment before nodding his head in recognition. "Okay. So how's the New York City guys?"

Chandler slammed down the onion and the knife, seething. "I'm not gay! Ouch!" His battle cry was punctuated by his own cry of pain. He automatically brought his hand up to his mouth. It was bleeding from a deep cut caused by the knife. He sucked the blood, glaring at Joey.

"Sorry! Are you okay?" Joey started forward only to take a step back at the sight of Chandler's glare. He stared at Chandler for a moment, looking sincerely worried before turning to stir the sauce.

Chandler rummaged in the bathroom for a band-aid, knocking over a bottle of soap in his hurry. He cursed as some of the soap got in his new cut. Great. Just great.

Even the smell of sauce (and even Chandler had to admit that it smelled _good_) couldn't bring Chandler out of his terrible mood. He knew that he didn't like Joey for a reason, and now he knew that the reason was that…was that…

Whatever. There was a reason. And at this point, Chandler was starting to think he would have been better off with an ax-murderer.

**I'm so mean to the guys. They're seriously great, though.**

**Review?**


	5. Chapter 5

**I don't own Friends. ****Duh.**

Joey knocked carefully on the door, tapping his foot nervously. It wasn't like he really _knew_ these people. After a week in the city, he still hadn't landed himself a gig, even though he'd been going to at least three auditions a day. Plus, Chandler seemed to…hate him.

Monica opened the door and Joey plastered on a smile. "Hi. I was wondering if I could borrow some butter."

Monica smiled. "Sure. You know, you can just open the door. We don't lock it." She went to the refrigerator, digging out two sticks of butter, "What are you making?"

Joey took the butter, trying not to think about how hot Monica was. "Umm…cookie dough. I had kind of a rough day and…and I have no idea why I'm saying this to you." He laughed uncomfortably for a second.

"I know what you mean." Monica was nodding like she did know. "I don't usually tell people this, but I used to be the…fat girl."

Joey looked her up and down. Fat must have been a relative term. This girl was slim, probably not weighing more than a hundred and twenty pounds. He turned his attention back to her. "Anyway, I got teased a lot in school and afterwards I'm come home and watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer while eating cookie dough." She looked at him seriously. "Don't laugh."

"I'm not laughing." He had completely forgotten about the sticks of butter and hopped onto the low counter. He stared at Monica for a second, noticing how hot she was…had he mentioned that already? Trying to take his mind off of it, he said, "I have an odd question. Do you know why Chandler hates me?"

He hadn't meant to ask that. He _had_ been about to ask whether or not she would like to join him for an evening of cookie dough and _Die Hard_. Yet now that the question was out, he found he desperately wanted to know the answer.

Monica turned sharply. "He doesn't hate you. What gave you that idea?" But she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach and sighed. "Well, hate might be a strong word."

Joey folded his arms, looking at her intently.

"Listen, it's got nothing to do with you. Chandler's really possisive about some stuff and one thing is his apartment. Anyway, Ross kind of egged him on to get a roommate, you, and he didn't like that. He probably would have gotten one eventually but…" She looked at Joey, pleading. "It's childish. I guarantee he'll get over it, and he really is a nice guy in a quirky way."

Joey got down. "Yeah, just give it some time, right?"

Monica smiled tentatively. "That's the general idea, yeah."

Joey smiled at her, though his mind was clearly in another place. "So…I'll see you later. Thanks for the butter. I'll be sure to save some cookie dough for you, Buffy."

He left, closing the door behind him, leaving Monica more confused than ever.

**No, it isn't a Joey/Monica story. ****Just a little chapter.**** Next week there should be some action. ****A lot of Joey bashing.**** Then we can get to the friendship we all know and love.**


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